


One Night of Normality

by EveryOtherUsernameWasTaken6604



Category: South Park
Genre: Animal Death, Awkward Dates, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Caring, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Kissing, Lasers, Love, M/M, Pick-Up Lines, Restaurants, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 09:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19885024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryOtherUsernameWasTaken6604/pseuds/EveryOtherUsernameWasTaken6604
Summary: Craig and Tweek have just returned from another adventure, and they're both exhausted. They've had just about enough of all the craziness, and decide to take one day to just be normal. Problem is, normalcy is rare in South Park, and neither of them are quite sure how to go about it. Awkwardness, small clashes, and lots of love ensue.





	One Night of Normality

“AAAAH! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!”

Tweek screamed hysterically, his throat burning from dehydration and exhaustion. 

Kyle quickly attempted to reassure him, “Tweek, relax! Everything's gonna be fine. We're not gonna die.”

The teen's only response was, “Gah!”

Kyle sighed, cupped his hand over his mouth, and called across the room, “Craig, get over here and calm your boyfriend down.” 

Craig glanced over at Tweek from the other side of the room where he was sitting at a carved wooden table, then stood up and walked over to him.

“Remember what I taught you, babe. Deep breaths,” he said comfortingly, taking Tweek's hands into his own. 

“Okay...okay…” the blond mumbled.

“In…” Craig instructed. 

The two deeply inhaled through their noses. 

“...and out,” he continued. 

They exhaled softly.

“In...and out.”

They took another deep breath in unison.

“In...and out…”

The couple repeated this a few more times, before Tweek softly smiled. 

“I'm okay,” he said quietly. 

“Don't worry, Tweek. We're gettin’ out of here, I promise.”

The other teens in the room—Wendy, Kyle, Bebe, and Stan—turned to face the door of the log cabin they were currently hiding out in, and Craig and Tweek followed suit. 

“They'll be here soon,” Wendy spoke solemnly. 

“Then we'll have to fight our way out,” said Stan in a grim, yet determined, tone. 

Hearing that, Tweek shuddered and twitched a little, but Craig gently put a hand on his shoulder and nodded to him. The twitchy boy nodded back, clenching his fists at his sides. 

Soon, loud crashing sounds came from the other side of the heavy wood door; after a few more bangs and crashes, the door splintered into pieces and fell to reveal a group of small woodland animals wearing little hats and scarves. 

“Praise Satan!” cried one of them, a squirrel, in a high-pitched and innocent voice. 

“Jeepers, Deery! Do ya think we should harvest their lungs or their hearts first?” the bear said huskily. 

A fawn bounded up and down excitedly and responded, “Oh, I simply can't decide!” 

Kyle grinned slightly and dramatically said, “Let's begin, then.” 

The group of teenagers swarmed forward to do battle with the demonic woodland critters. Wendy, Stan, and Craig let out intimidating yells; trying to mimic them, Tweek screamed loudly as an attempt at a battle cry— though he sounded more frightened than frightening. 

The six of them did battle, each slaying the woodland critters in their own way. Bebe twirled and spun through enemy ranks, easily dodging laser beams and burning hellfire and returning her own elegant blows. Kyle's fighting was measured and calculated precisely, each movement designed to strike with maximum efficiency. Stan played defensively, protecting the others from teeth and claws or moving them away from dangerous areas, then counterattacking. Wendy seemed to be doing a little of everything—a jack of all trades, but master of none—supplementing the others' talents with her own. Craig was highly offensive; he flipped off the beasts to anger them and crushed them with his powerful fists. Tweek was completely erratic; it was impossible to tell what he might do next, and he used this to confuse the creatures.

He seemed to be rather proud of himself; after snapping an evil squirrel over his knee, he lifted his broken body and screamed, "I AM TWEEK TWEAK, DESTROYER OF EVIL!"

Stan then had to tackle him away from an incoming laser.

Some time later, the group limped out of the smoldering remains of the abandoned log cabin, the corpses of the wicked creatures lying around them; they were injured, but victorious. Bebe doubled over and began coughing heavily, and Wendy gave her friend a small clap on the back to expel the ash and smoke from her lungs; the blonde girl seemed to breathe more deeply after that. Tweek leaned against Craig, who wrapped his arm around the other’s shoulder and held him up, supporting him. Tweek smiled gratefully as the six began the long walk back home. 

The group walked through the streets of their hometown. Though night had fallen, their way was lit by the glow of the faintly humming streetlights, and the moon and stars shone above them. 

“Okay. I’m done...no more adventures,” Craig panted.

Kyle smirked and retorted, “That’s what you said last time, and the time before that... and about 132 times before that, if I remember right.”

“You’ll be back. You can’t get rid of us,” Stan grinned. 

“Whatever,” he muttered. “I'm gonna take Tweek home.”

Tweek weakly shook his head and responded, “No, it's okay, honey...I can walk…” 

He promptly shut his eyes and leaned against Craig heavily. 

“Poor baby passed out,” Bebe said worriedly, before coughing a few more times. 

Craig hoisted Tweek up and waved goodbye to the others, then began slowly walking to Tweek Bros. Coffee. Upon reaching the coffee shop and opening the unlocked glass door, he carried Tweek in. The blond softly sniffed the air and began to smile faintly. The taller boy carried his boyfriend into an upstairs room, where Mr. and Mrs. Tweak sat on their couch, the latter nervously wringing her hands. 

Tweek's mother gasped and said, “Oh! He's back, thank goodness. Thank you, Craig! You always keep our child safe.”

“Anytime, Mrs. Tweak,” Craig grinned. 

“You'll have to forgive my husband,” she sighed as she shot a sideways glance at Mr. Tweak.

He absentmindedly glanced up and responded, “Hmm? Oh, yes! Thank you, Craig. You always come through for us—just like the sun comes through the clouds and shines down on our fresh local coffee fields.”

Craig rolled his eyes and bore Tweek into his room, then gently laid him down into his bed and pulled the light grey comforter over the blonde. Tweek rolled over in his sleep, his golden locks falling over his face and covering it slightly. 

Mrs. Tweak poked her head into the room and gave a few quiet raps on the open door. 

“You can stay here tonight if you'd like, Craig,” she whispered. “I understand you probably want to look after him after whatever you boys got up to.” 

“Thanks, Mrs. Tweak. I don't want to wake him up...I'll watch him and just sleep where I fall.”

“All right. You sleep well now,” she said, starting to close the door, but then pausing for a moment and continuing, “Really, thank you so much for looking after my son. He's lucky to have you.”

Craig smiled, dismissively waved his hand, and answered, “Nah. If anything, _I'm_ the lucky one.”

The woman nodded in response and gently shut the door as she leaned out. Craig began to lightly run his fingers over Tweek's hair; the latter mumbled a few unintelligible words. 

“Sleep well, Tweek. Tomorrow, we'll spend as much time as you want together, I promise,” Craig softly said, then kissed his boyfriend’s forehead. 

Craig opened his eyes. He was lying on the pillow next to Tweek, light streaming through the window onto the two. Tweek's hair seemed to glimmer faintly as the bright sunlight shone onto it. The noirette lifted his head and shook it to clear away his daze; he hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep. 

Tweek’s blue eyes fluttered open; seeing a sleepy-looking Craig, he was unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Craig said, yawning.

Tweek giggled and responded, “Seems like _you're_ the sleepyhead.”

Craig didn't respond, instead lifting his head and yawning once again. 

As he glanced around, Tweek soon realized where he was, and asked in confusion, “W-wait, how'd I get back home? Did you take me here?” 

His boyfriend’s only answer was a nod.

“S-so then...we beat those creatures? Did I do okay? Oh, God, is anyone hurt?! I-if someone got hurt because I didn't fight well enough—” Tweek rambled on, his voice becoming faster and higher-pitched with each word. 

“No, babe, they're all fine. You did great.”

“Oh...o-okay, th-that's good,” Tweek sighed with relief, then suddenly said, “Th-thank you for taking care of me. After all that craziness, I-I'm pretty worn out…”

“Yeah, same,” the noirette mumbled as he stretched his arms above his head and grunted a little. 

His eyes widening innocently, Tweek then proceeded to ask, “Can we have a normal day today?” in a hopeful tone. 

“‘Course, babe,” Craig answered, his voice surprisingly enthusiastic. “A normal day. No adventures, no superheroes, no magical sticks, no anime transformation sequences.”

They both laughed for a few seconds, then laid in silence for an awkwardly long amount of time, one of them occasionally breaking it by coughing or clearing his throat.

“...”

“...”

“Yep,” Craig said. 

“Totally normal,” Tweek replied. 

After a few minutes of this, he stammered out, “Wh-what, uh...what do n-normal people do?” 

Craig exhaled a bit hard and glanced up and to the left, seeming to think. 

“Weeeell…normal people in relationships go on dates to restaurants and shit.”

“A date, huh? That sounds nice…” the blonde mused, then happily cried, “Yeah! Let's do it!” 

“Then it's settled! A real date at a fancy restaurant. Say, at 8 tonight?”

“O-of course!” 

Seeing Tweek's excitement, Craig smiled softly, saying, “I'll go make the reservations right now.”

He took a rather plain black phone out of his pocket, dialed it, held it up to his ear, and began stepping away from Tweek and saying, “Is this the Buca di Faggoncini? Yeah, I wanna make a reservation...yeah...for two, last name Tucker, 8 tonight...Great, thanks so much!”

He hung up and shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. 

“Wait, why are we using _your_ last name?” the other boy asked, tilting his head. 

“‘Cause _I’m_ paying,” responded Craig, turning back towards his boyfriend and lightly booping his nose. 

“Oh yeah? Says who?” came a teasing response. 

With a smug grin on his face and his arms crossed, Craig playfully answered, “Says me. I’m gonna spend all my money on you and there's nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Well, _I_ say we should split it.” 

“Well, then, maybe we will.” 

“Fine!” Tweek cried in mock anger. 

“Fine!” Craig responded in kind. 

However, the two were only able to keep up this facade of anger for a few more seconds before they both burst out laughing. 

“Y-you should probably go home to get dressed and stuff, Craig,” Tweek advised; he then gasped and waved his hands in front of himself, seeming panicked, and said, “I-I-I mean, n-n-not that I w-want to get r-rid of you or anything! I-I’d love to spend m-m-more time with you! I j-just think it'd be better if we didn't spend all day together, since then it'll be more rewarding when we finally _do_ see each other tonight? Y-y-you know?” 

“I getcha. Don't you worry, Tweek, I'll get all dressed up and shit,” the stronger of the two promised. 

The other glanced up and mumbled to himself, “I-I think I have an old suit lying around that I can wear…” 

“You'd look hotter in a dress,” Craig teased, that confident smirk still on his face. 

“Gah! You perv!” 

Tweek's face became bright red, and he pulled open the door and pushed his boyfriend out, covering his flushed face with his hands. 

“See ya tonight, Tweek,” the noirette called out behind him before walking into the still-unopened store downstairs, where Mr. Tweak was sweeping the floor and Mrs. Tweak was standing at the counter.

“Oh, Craig! Would you like some coffee before you go?” the woman kindly inquired. 

“No thanks, Mrs. Tweak,” he politely declined, then stepped out of the building. 

Craig smiled and glanced up at the rising sun, placing his hands in his pockets and beginning to walk down the street, back to his own house. As he traveled on his way, a storefront caught his eye, and he turned to look at the window of the shop. His smile grew wider.

“Well, that'll do just fine.”

Giggling and squealing, Tweek buried his face in a pillow, unable to contain himself. 

“Okay, relax, Tweek,” he said aloud to himself, his speech punctuated by small giddy laughing fits. “In, and out…”

After taking a moment to breathe and calm himself down, he stood up and walked downstairs, as Craig had done. 

His mother glanced at him and, noticing his smile and general appearance, warmly said, “Well, someone's in a good mood!”

“Yep! I'm going on a date with Craig tonight!” 

“I hope you're treating that boy well, my little man,” Mrs. Tweak reprimanded, wagging her finger at him. “He deserves it after all he's done for you.”

“Make sure to get your work done first, Tweek,” added his father. 

“Of course!” 

Craig entered his house, holding a bag under his arm. He waved hello to his parents, who were sitting on the couch; his father absentmindedly waved back.

“Goin’ on a date with Tweek later.”

“Don’t be out too late, don’t spend too much, have fun, practice safe sex,” Mr. Tucker rattled off. 

“No prob, dad.”

“Have a good time, dear,” his mother smiled. 

The son made a vague grunting noise and walked up the stairs to his room, setting the bag on the floor. 

Within a few hours, Tweek had quickly finished his work, hastily excused himself, and dashed upstairs excitedly. A few minutes later, his parents heard the sound of water running and their son's rather pretty high-pitched singing voice. 

“ _Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars_ ” Tweek sang as he ran his fingers through his messy golden hair. “ _Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars...In other words, hold my hand! In other words, darling, kiss me!”_

Craig quickly jumped into his own shower and was out within minutes. A white towel covering his waist, he walked to his room, then to his closet, and dug a black dress shirt and pants out of the unorganized heap. Folding them out to examine them, he found the clothes to be quite wrinkled. 

“Gonna need to iron these…” he muttered. 

“ _Fill my heart with song, and let me sing forevermore,_ ” Tweek continued as he reached for a bottle of floral-scented body wash. “ _You are all I long for, all I worship and adore. In other words, please be tru-ue...in other words, I love you!_ ”

The blonde soon hit the last high note of the song, then turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, drying himself off with haste. 

Sufficiently dressed up, Craig walked to his mirror and examined himself, soon becoming aware that his hair could use some work. He opened the family's medicine cabinet and grabbed at a bottle of hair gel, squeezing some into his hand and slicking his jet-black hair back. Noticing a bottle of cologne—presumably his father's—he shrugged and sprayed it onto a few miscellaneous areas of his body. 

Tweek, meanwhile, searched his well-organized closet for the old suit. 

“Is it under ‘S’ for suit? ‘T’ for tuxedo? Agh, man…”

Fortunately, he soon managed to find it (under “D” for dress shirt), and tried it on; it was a bit tight, as he hadn't worn it in some time, but it would suit its purpose well, he thought. 

Tweek found himself giggling a little at that. 

After a few more preparations, the two were ready. Now, all that was left to do was wait. And wait they did, for a few more hours, until Craig checked his phone and decided it was time to leave. 

He moved towards the doorway and waved goodbye to his parents, who responded the same way. The noirette stepped out of his house, making his way downtown, walking fast, until he reached Tweek Bros. Coffee once again. He entered and walked to the back room where the entrance to the house was, then knocked on the door. Mrs. Tweak answered it.

“You're here for Tweek, I assume. He's just inside. Come in, please.” 

He did so, and gave her another polite nod on his way in. 

Tweek straightened his tie and deeply exhaled as he heard the knock. He knew that Craig was probably just as nervous as he was, but that didn't help to soothe him. 

_Oh God, here he is now!_

The visitor entered the Tweak family's living room for the second time that day, and gasped softly as he saw his boyfriend. Tweek gasped as well, albeit a bit louder. 

“Tweek...you look great.”

Blushing, the twitchy teen answered, “Aww, stop. You look better.” 

“Now, now, boys. You both look very handsome,” Mrs. Tweak assured them. 

“You two have fun now,” her husband added, almost as an afterthought. 

“Oh, I brought ya a gift!” Craig cried.

He took the bag he had been holding behind his back and held it out to Tweek, who took it and reached in to pull out the contents, which were a large pink heart-shaped box and a bouquet of red roses. 

“Flowers and chocolates? God, you're such a cliché!” Tweek teased. “But thank you.”

“Anything for you, Mr. Tweak,” Craig said dramatically, bowing and taking Tweek’s hand, then kissing his knuckle. 

“Well, what a gentleman you are, Mr. Tucker,” the standing teen responded. 

Craig stood up and offered Tweek his arm, and the latter hooked his own arm into it. 

As the two walked towards the door, Craig added, “Don't worry, Mrs. Tweak, I'll bring him back no later than 11.”

“You boys have fun!” Mrs. Tweak called out pleasantly, then sighed dreamily and leaned against her husband as they watched the young couple leave. “Ah, young love...remember our first date, Richard?”

“Yes, I do envy them,” he sighed. “I know I haven't always been the best father, but maybe...maybe Craig can be better to him than I was.”

“Oh, I'm sure you only did what you thought was right,” the woman reassured.

The couple walked through the dimly lit town, both occasionally glancing over at the other to make sure everything was all right. 

“Thank you for the gifts, Craig. S-sorry for calling you a cliché,” stammered Tweek. 

“No problem. Clichés work; that's why people still use 'em.”

“I'd be happy with anything you do, clichéd or not,” Tweek agreed.

After a few more minutes of walking, they reached the brightly lit Italian restaurant and stepped in. The inside was warm and comforting, and surprisingly bare of people except for a few couples sitting at scattered tables. 

“Expected more people to be here,” Craig muttered under his breath. 

The slightly overbearing maitre d’ smiled widely and greeted them with a, “Welcome to the Buca di Faggoncini. Do you have a reservation?” 

Craig stepped a little closer and responded, “Yep! Table for two, under ‘Tucker’.”

“Right this way, sirs!” 

The blonde and the noirette were led to a table on the other side of the restaurant. They sat down, Tweek taking great care to avoid the candles for fear of knocking them over and setting the white silk tablecloth on fire. 

“A waiter will be with you in just a moment,” stated the employee before returning to his post. 

Noticing Tweek's occasional scratching at his arm, Craig tried to distract him by asking, “So what are you gonna have, babe?” 

“Umm...I-I don't know, I've never been here before.”

Tweek set the flowers and chocolates aside, nervously fidgeting with his hands. 

A well-dressed waiter soon elegantly stepped to the couple's table. He spoke with a mild Italian accent. 

“Welcome! What will you be ordering on this fine night?”

“Can I see your wine list?” asked Craig. 

Tweek gasped quietly and piercingly glared at his boyfriend, his blue eyes staring like daggers. 

“Certainly! Just one moment,” said the waiter before stepping away. 

Tweek leaned closer to Craig and whispered venomously, “What are you doing?!”

“What?” he asked, shrugging.

Tweek hissed, “You're not old enough to drink!” 

“But _they_ don't know that.”

“And what happens when they ask for an ID?” 

Craig only shrugged again in response, and Tweek slapped his palm against his forehead, groaning. The waiter soon returned with a wine list, which he placed in front of Craig.

The waiter suddenly gasped and playfully said, “Oh, now wait,” wagging his finger. “I almost forgot to ask for an ID.”

Craig briefly turned his gaze to Tweek, whose face was adorned with the most smug, self-satisfied smirk he'd ever seen—and considering he'd seen Cartman, that was saying something.

“Uh…” the noirette patted his pockets and dug through them to pretend like he was looking for an ID. “Damn, I guess I forgot mine.”

“Well…eh, what the hell. It isn't a date without some wine, and the young couple deserve a perfect date,” shrugged the waiter. 

“Oh, y-you don't have to—" Tweek started to say, but was interrupted by Craig ordering Merlot for both of them. 

The waiter stepped away, and in mere moments, returned and filled their glasses with the dark red wine. 

“I'll have the, uh...fil-ett mig—"

“ _Filet mignon,_ honey,” Tweek corrected, still glowering a little.

"Yeah, that. What do you want, babe?"

"Umm...the hanger steak and salad, please. R-raspberry vinaigrette."

The waiter nodded, scribbled their orders down on a small notepad, and left with a polite "I'll be back with your meals as soon as I can."

Craig glanced around and whispered, " _Raspberry vinaigrette_?"

"What? Y-you know I like sweet stuff."

"Yeah, but it's like eatin' a pile of sugar...oh!"

Craig gasped, and his face twisted into a mischievous grin. 

"Wh-what?" Tweek asked, tilting his head, a bit concerned.

"Well, we're on a cliché date, ain't we? Which means I gotta use crappy pickup lines."

Craig's grin got wider as he leaned forward, narrowed his eyes, and said, "Hey, baby, did you sit in a pile of sugar? 'Cause you got a pretty sweet ass."

Tweek's face immediately flushed red again, and he sputtered, "G-God, you're s-such a perv! You talk about wanting to see me in a dress, you compliment my butt in _public_ , you're drinking even though you're not old enough…"

"Relax, babe. What are they gonna do, arrest me?" Craig said nonchalantly, with a shrug. 

" _Yesp_! And then what would I do, huh?! I can't be a prison husband!"

"You'd be fine, Tweek. You're badass."

"Aw, thanks," Tweek said, blushing even more. "B-but what about you? You'd have to fight the toughest guy there to assert your dominance! Oh God, what if you get shanked?!"

Poor Tweek was nearly pulling his hair out at this point.

"Look, Tweek, just relax. Deep breaths. In…"

The two inhaled softly.

"And out."

They deeply exhaled.

"Better?" 

"Y-yes," said Tweek; the hot red flush of his cheeks seemed to have alleviated a little, and he wasn't twitching as much. 

Craig took a sip of his wine and asked, "You wanna try it too?"

"Well, as long as you're doing it, I _guess_ …"

Tweek hesitantly reached for his wineglass and raised it to his lips. 

"Th-that's not too bad."

"See? Just chill. We're gonna be fine, you and me."

"Y-yeah...just two guys out on a normal date. Nothing to hurt or bother us...it's nice to just be able to relax."

Soon, the waiter returned with their food. As the couple dug in and continued drinking, Tweek gradually began to loosen up, giggling at Craig's poor etiquette before politely correcting him, offering him bites of his food (Craig finally admitted that the raspberry vinaigrette wasn't bad), and lightly touching his hand from time to time. 

As they slowly finished their meal, Tweek asked if they should order dessert. However, Craig replied with, "Nah, you and your ass are sweet enough already."

Tweek blushed and giggled again. "Mm, you're sweeter," he said.

Just then, their flirting was interrupted by the somewhat loud sound of footsteps approaching. Tweek jumped in fright and turned toward the source of the noise, only to see it was just…

"PC Principal!"

"Hello, boys," the man greeted them. "Out on a date, I see."

"Yep," Craig said. 

"Practicing informed consent, I hope?"

"You wouldn't expect anything less from me, wouldja?" said Craig slyly.

The principal glanced down at their wineglasses, but said nothing; he'd done enough underage drinking in his day that he wasn't going to call the couple out, especially when they looked awfully happy.

The waiter approached, squeezed past PC Principal, and placed a check on their table. Craig dug his wallet out of his pocket, a few stray papers falling out, but Tweek pointed at him.

"W-wait a second, honey. How come you're paying?"

Craig rolled his eyes a little and said, "Babe, we talked about this earlier, remember?"

"Yeah, and I appreciate the gesture, but we agreed we should split it." Tweek pulled his own wallet out of his pocket.

"But—"

"I agree with Tweek. Both partners having financial power leads to more trust and a more stable relationship overall," said PC Principal in his strict military cadence.

"But, I've always been the one who pays. Tweek's kinda the…"

Craig's voice trailed off as the principal lowered his black sunglasses and gave him a deathly stare.

"The _what_?"

"The more...y-y'know...feminine one."

PC Principal slammed his hands onto their table, causing Tweek to jump and let out a cry of fear once again.

"Craig, I am SHOCKED! I never thought you of all people would say something like that! Not only does suggesting that the more feminine one shouldn't pay imply that women shouldn't be trusted with finances, which is sexist, it _also_ promotes a heteronormative and inaccurate stereotype of gay relationships!"

"H-hear that, Craig? You're being heteronormative," Tweek teased.

"Frankly, Craig, I'm disappointed in you. You should know better."

Craig sighed and groaned, "Fine. We'll go Du...uh, split the bill."

PC Principal nodded, then said, "Apologies for interrupting your night out. Have a lovely and consensual evening, you two."

As he walked away, the couple each paid half of the bill and exited the restaurant. As they walked through the cool moonlit streets, Craig put one arm around Tweek's waist; naturally, he did grope Tweek's ass once or twice (they were both a bit tipsy and uninhibited, after all), but Tweek didn't mind, and only responded with playful, halfhearted shoves. Tweek also occasionally took a sniff of the fragrant flowers or popped one of the chocolates into his mouth and smiled at Craig, who was glad to see him so happy.

Soon, they reached Tweek Bros. Coffee. The two stood under the storefront for a moment, clasping each other's hands tightly, neither of them wanting to be the first one to let go. Eventually, however, Craig reluctantly released his grip. 

Before he could walk away, Tweek put a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Don't I get a goodnight kiss? That's what boys do when they take their dates home, right?"

Craig smirked, leaned forward, and gently pressed his lips to Tweek's. The couple moved closer together, wrapping their arms around one another. Once again, they found themselves in an awkward situation, as neither of them wanted to pull back; if they kept going at this rate, they'd be here all night. Not that either of them would mind that, of course. This time, Tweek was the first to pull away. 

"Thank you, honey. This was the best night I've ever had," he whispered.

"Same for me, babe. Maybe we should try normal more often."

"Mm. Normal doesn't last long around here, but you're right. We should treasure it 'cause it's so rare."

"All that poetry's gettin' to ya," joked Craig.

"Shut up, dumbass," Tweek said in a gentle, loving voice. 

They briefly laughed, before Craig slowly began to walk away. Tweek continued watching him, leaning against the wall, until he vanished from view.

As the couple returned to their homes and snuggled into their respective beds, they reflected on the wonderful night they had just had. What Tweek had said was true: normality didn't last long in South Park. But they both knew that, whenever it came next, they'd take time to indulge in it, to enjoy both it and each other. 

The two lovers were overjoyed at that thought.


End file.
